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Modern AU
The Original AU Needs A Title Part 1: Berin huddled near the back of the cold stone cell. There was no furniture, nothing in the room except him and a small hole in the floor that served as the toilet. He didn't remember much of how he got there... walking home, and then there was struggling and a gun and a horrible, pungent smell, then everything was fuzzy. When he came to, he was here. He had no idea how long he'd been here. Given no source of warmth but the clothes on his back in the freezing cold cell. If he behaved, they shoved food into the room at regular intervals. Rubbing his hands up and down his arms and legs in a feeble attempt to stimulate blood-flow, he bolted to his feet when he heard the door squeak open an inch, blinding light streaming through the crack; once they had let in a small wild cat he'd barely managed to subdue. He still had the scratches from that. As his sight adjusted, however, he only saw a human form. He was new to the job. The old interrogator, Ed, stopped showing up at the door...Berin supposed a few days ago, he wasn't sure. Unlike Ed, this guy wasn't as ruthless and never spoke. Let who Berin assumed was the boss speak instead, always wore something to mask his face. Today it was sunglasses and a hat. Swallowing hard, Berin drew on what reserves of courage he had left. "Good morning sunshine." No response as the man grabbed him by the inner elbow and tugged him out of the room, pushing him in front. There was as much definition in this hallway as there was in the cell, and Berin's feet followed the same worn path he'd walked down it numerous times. Unintentionally, he stumbled, a chill running down his spine when the grip on his arm tightened. Swallowing again, Berin tried to brush that off. "Still haven't gotten a name..." With a pause, Berin craned his neck to look at the man, receiving the same silent response. Reaching the door at the end of the hall and stopping, the man unlocked it, putting the key in the back pocket of his pants and pushed Berin in. There was his chair right in the middle, complete with straps to keep him from getting up and running away. A rolling table stood nearby, covered with an assortment of knives and other tools. Video cameras, complete with a high-tech audio system, were at each corner, constantly rolling. The first time he was there, they made him read a demand to his parents...after that all they did was ask the same questions. Today, however, the boss wasn't sitting in the corner as usual. Adrenaline rushed through Berin's veins. Though he had attempted to escape before, and had epically failed, there was the idea again. He had to try. Berin eyed the table. Next to a saw, there was an extremely sharp knife lying on it, perfectly ready for him to grab. Without the boss, it was one-on-one, and Berin would have the element of surprise. The cameras would see, but maybe he would have enough time to make it...even if he was stopped in seconds, it was better than doing nothing. Berin's eyes flicked to the man. He wasn't looking, focused intently at what looked like a remote control in his hand. Distracted. This was his chance. Lunging for the table, Berin snatched the knife, pivoted, and threw himself at the man. He dropped the remote in surprise, grabbing Berin's wrist as he swung the knife at the man's chest. Adrenaline instantly turned to panic. Though Berin couldn't see the man's eyes, he didn't look mad – startled, yes, but not furious. Regardless, Berin ignored that, kneeing him in the stomach. His hold on Berin's wrist faltered just enough so he could rip it out of the man's grip. This time aiming for the throat as he lunged again. Ducking the blade, he had his arms around Berin's waist and tackled him to the ground with a thud. The impact drove all breath from Berin; it would assuredly would leave a huge bruise. Though not as bad as the ones he guessed he was going to have. Absolute terror flooded through him as the man wrenched the knife from him and threw it across the room. Heavy breaths racking his chest, Berin immediately began to struggle, despite knowing his fate was set; he was pinned at the waist, he wasn't going anywhere. "Stop!" the man ordered, breaking his silence for the first time, trapping Berin's wrists in one hand. "Calm down." Berin's struggles slowed as he realized he recognized that voice. "Who are you?!" Tears welled up in his eyes as he slumped back, exhausted from the fighting, constant fear, and pain. There was a pause before the man finally removed the sunglasses and hat one-handedly, revealing those familiar features. Berin didn't want to believe it was him, but it was. Correnten. "You...You're one of them...?" His heart shattered as he spoke, betrayal lodging in his gut. "No... I'm here to break you out. I disabled all the cameras, we have maybe four more minutes before they realize it originated from here." Furiously blinking tears out of his eyes, Berin felt the adrenaline spike again. "What is this, mind games now?! Physical torture didn't break me so now you're hoping mental will?!" Correnten looked like he'd been slapped, getting off him, hesitating, and then extending a hand to help him up. "You don't have to like me right now...but I need you to trust me or we'll both die here." He felt like he was already dying...the temptation was there, but he didn't have another choice. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grabbed Correnten's hand, feeling himself be hoisted to his feet. "Follow me and stay close..." Though Berin nodded, he had no intentions of staying that close. Needs A Title Part 2: He left his skates in Pittsburgh. And his old ones didn’t fit right anymore, but he didn’t care. He just needed to try… to see if skating helped. Nothing else was, every attempt to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest, every ounce of strength he put into figuring out what next. It only hurt more and more. He desperately needed it to stop. So, with only jeans and a t-shirt and Correnten’s hoodie on, he snuck out of his parent’s house – the first time he’d been outside since he got there – and put on his ill-fitting skates at the edge of the frozen-over pond. He wasn’t even quite sure what he was doing when he got onto the ice, only calm for a second before he was moving at a furious pace, aware of the cold but not feeling it. The faster he skated, the less he felt… except the pain. He couldn’t seem to shake that off. He didn’t notice how shaky his movements were – at best – until he found himself flat on his back, breath knocked out of him, pain shooting through his ankle. It took a moment to remember to breathe, then another to push himself up. Carefully, he checked his ankle to make sure it wasn’t broken before slumping back. It had started to snow, silent flakes landing in his lashes and melting on his nose. He didn’t make a move to wipe them away, closing his eyes tightly with a sigh. Things only seemed to be getting harder and harder, tugging on him to the extent he was certain it was tearing him apart piece by piece. He could feel it far more than the cold. He… he was so tired… “Berin?” Berin didn’t even flinch, staying absolutely still for a minute before finally looking up at Correnten. He looked tired, worried and worn, hands stuffed in his pockets while he stood by the edge of the ice. “Hey, um… maybe you should come inside for a bit…” he said tentatively, watching even though Berin had no reaction. After a pause, he still had no reaction… it wasn’t a bad suggestion. Skating wasn’t working. He could… could figure out something else. “Please?” Correnten brought his attention back. Everything was stiff as Berin got up and made his way to where Correnten was standing. “Aren’t you cold?” “Not. I don’t feel anything.” Except that ache in his chest. He could feel Correnten’s frown, and then a blanket was wrapped around his shoulders with only the slightest lingering touch. “Well hopefully you’ll be able to feel your fingers soon…” Berin didn’t respond, jaw clenching and shivering almost instantly, as if the blanket did nothing but make him notice the cold. Fumbling for the edges of the blanket, he drew it tighter around himself, pretending hi didn’t see Correnten press his lips together or the awkward, halting attempt to hold himself back. Only watching him walk back towards the house. Berin followed him, only stopping to fumble with his skates before stepping into the considerably warmer house. Putting away the skates under a shelf by the door, he carefully peeled off his socks and sat on a bench by the window, curling into the blanket and watching the snow. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing anymore, aside from trying to warm up. Flexing his fingers as they tingled angrily. So he was completely surprised when he was handed a warm cup of hot chocolate by Correnten, angry, guilty pangs stabbing through him. “Thanks…” his voice was dry. “No problem.” Correnten hesitated and sat down next to him while he warmed his hands with the cup and tucked his nose into the hoodie. He hadn’t stopped wearing it since he got back, comforting himself with the faint scent of pine. It was as close as he got to Correnten now. “Look…” Correnten sighed, drawing Berin out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to like me right now, or…” he gulped. “Or anymore, but for your parent’s sake, don’t freeze to death out there.” Berin’s flinch wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t… he didn’t dislike Correnten. That’s what was making this so hard. “I don’t know…” It was a lie to say that. He knew perfectly well. “That’s fine…” there was something unspoken in his tone, but he didn’t elaborate. And Berin didn’t ask. “But please, at the least dress warmly and keep moving out there, okay?” Berin stared at the cup in his hands, the steam wisping up into nothing, convinced it hadn’t been that bad. It couldn’t have… he would have noticed. “I fell, that’s all.” “And stayed out there for how long?” He didn’t miss the slight exasperation, but ignored that and thought over the question instead. How long… “I don’t know…” It went silent for a few moments. “I saw you stay there for a good five minutes before I got you…” Correnten sighed again, shifting in his seat. “Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” There was no short, satisfactory answer to that question, but he didn’t have much else. Or didn’t want to have much else… Not just yet. “Everything hurts…” Though Correnten made another move towards him, he stopped himself short. Berin couldn’t decide if he were glad or not about that… and then he was extremely grateful for the sweatshirt. If Correnten hugged him, he felt like he’d break. “What hurts most?” Swallowing furiously, Berin gripped the cup a little tighter, feeling all those emotions threatening. “Everything… us… it just hurts and it won’t stop, no matter what I do…” “I know…” he sounded utterly defeated. “I won’t make any excuses for what I did, Berin, it was horrible judgment and I’m sorry. But you don’t have to make a decision right now. You can push me to the side and work out everything else, and then when you’re ready to figure it out…” He didn’t continue the thought, and Berin didn’t want him to. Didn’t need him to… Even after everything, what had happened… he couldn’t do that to Correnten. He needed an answer… deserved one. They both did. Shifting, he tried to hide a sniff. “I don’t know… nothing’s working… I still-“ he caught himself, not wanting to admit that too soon. Even if he did still love Correnten… “I can’t work any of it out…” Not with the questions he still had, even after his mother’s quiet reassurances and Correnten’s apologies. “Is there any way I can help? Answer questions, get something or someone for you…?” Berin knew Correnten would if asked. But instead he shook his head impulsively before thinking. “I guess… I don’t understand why…” “Why what?” Correnten sounded far more gentle; maybe he somehow understood just how important this question was to Berin. “Why did you… I-I thought you were one of them.” And he was beyond terrified. The idea of Correnten being on the same side of his kidnappers… At the time he thought so, and how he knew otherwise, but… the pain and betrayal and maybe even fear was still there. He wasn’t sure if that made him the bad guy right now or not. But Correnten didn’t act like it was ridiculous for him to feel this way. He didn’t know how. “I know…” he said quietly. “It killed me, but that was the only way I could get in… and then I was too afraid they’d find out if I tried to warn you ahead of the rescue, and then hurt you more. I really didn’t want to make you that afraid, but I didn’t want anything worse to happen.” Guilt built up in Berin’s chest, it took an enormous effort to keep from tearing up. “And then I tried to kill you…” he said quietly, hoping Correnten didn’t hear and sniffing as if that dismissed his words. “I still don’t understand, what… what happened…” “Well, um…” Correnten took a breath. “Sammie called me the night you disappeared saying you hadn’t shown up when you normally do and weren’t calling her back. When I told her I hadn’t seen you, we agreed to go out and look, and we couldn’t find you anywhere. We went to the police, but they said you had to be missing longer for them to be able to do anything. “It wasn’t until your parents called the next morning we found out what happened – as if I could sleep before… they said they were sent this video of you and were hoping it was a joke or we knew anything, or just something.” Correnten rubbed his face. “They said whoever these people were, they’d hurt you or worse if the police were brought in… I-I couldn’t let that happen as much as they could, so while they waited for demands and dealings, I… I started looking myself. I went along the route you like to take to see if anyone saw anything and I finally found a place that caught the whole thing on camera, the car, everything. I have a friend who was able to run the plates for me… I managed to track down the assholes and convince them to give me a job. Some of my friends helped me out with that… “It didn’t take them too long to put me on guard stuff, and when I was finally close enough to you…” he sighed. “I’m sorry for tricking you, I just couldn’t think of another way… I didn’t want to do it.” Berin sat in silence, thinking over Correnten’s story. Then he carefully placed the cup he was holding on the windowsill, hugging himself. Everything Correnten had said made sense, in some crazy, strange way… he remembered the video. He knew Correnten was telling the truth… Increasingly, it was beginning to seem like everything Berin was feeling… Everything Correnten was feeling. It was all his own fault. Everything seemed to crack beneath his fingertips. “Correnten…? I-I’m sorry…” And then everything else cracked, collapsing inward while he drew his knees to his chest and pressed his hands to his face to hide the tears. “I’m so sorry…” “What? No, it was understandable, I should’ve-“ Whatever else Correnten was saying was fading fast, Berin quickly shaking his head before letting his head fall and his hands curl into his own hair. He was sorry, all he wanted… he just wanted… He didn’t flinch when Correnten put a hand on his shoulder, didn’t pull away, instead throwing his around Correnten and practically bawling into his shirt. Only noticing when Correnten wrapped him in a tight hug. This. He wanted this. Berin tightened his grip, unable to stop his tears. He didn’t want to. Didn’t care. Didn’t say anything and neither did Correnten while Berin let go of almost a week’s worth of pent-up distress, maybe even more than that. Let it unravel until it finally wriggled loose, leaving silence and occasional sniffling in its place. Not necessarily the good kind of silence… but good enough. And Berin was okay with sitting in it for the time being, until he could breathe again. “I love you,” he said, ignoring the rawness of his own voice, more focused on keeping his tone even. “I-I never stopped…” “I love you too…” Berin could feel Correnten shift and press a kiss to the top of his head. Allowing the considerably better silence to come back while kissing once, then twice more and resting his cheek on Berin’s head. Though Berin didn’t have any more words, he wasn’t sure he needed them. Maybe if he knew how much Correnten missed him, Correnten knew the same… maybe he didn’t. Berin wasn’t sure that mattered just yet… As long as Correnten knew he loved him, it didn’t matter. Harry Heistman AU It's Angsty, it's Smutty, what is it Not: Berin couldn’t breathe, stuck between a wall and Harry. Again. Only this time, he was saying something, getting even closer, and Berin could smell his cologne, and then there were lips on his- His mind just about short-circuited, mouth moving on its own. Allowing Harry to kiss however he wanted. For as long as he wanted. Because maybe… maybe Berin wanted it too… But of course, it ended, and the man pulled back with an annoying grin on his face. “There’s more of that if you come with me…” Berin could only blink, fumbling for words. “Wh-what…?” Before he could think, Harry was gone. Berin still couldn’t breathe as he stared where Harry had been. Fuck. He didn’t even know how long it took him to calm down enough to think again, but apparently it was long enough that he found himself sitting on the back of an ambulance and being fussed over until he finally started answering them. And then having to answer the questions of his fellow officers; he only barely managed to not get pulled off the case for medical reasons. ---- “Still think it was worth it?” he panted, hair falling into his eyes. He finally did it, he caught Harry off guard, and tackled him to the ground - no matter if he was practically straddling the man. “Yes.” Berin was too elated at finally cuffing the man to respond, let alone care, as he dragged Harry to his feet. He was somewhere into reciting Harry’s mirandas when he rolled his eyes, picked Berin up, and threw him over his shoulder. “Hey, what are you doing!” “I’ve got a heist to pull off!” Berin struggled, trying to get out of Harry’s grip. “You’re not making the decisions here!” Harry snirked. “Oh, then please, Kingsley, lead me away to the slammer.” Berin immediately kneed him in the stomach hard, some level of satisfaction coming from the groan he got. As Harry tried to recover, Berin attempted to wiggle free. Emphasis on attempt, because Harry recovered all too soon, easily readjusting Berin on his shoulder before walking towards wherever he’d been going. Then started whistling, which immediately prompted Berin to poke the man as hard as he possibly could. It was annoying that Harry just laughed. “What?” “Can you at least shut up?” “Why don’t you talk to me then?” “About what…” “I dunno, was this how you were planning on spending your day?” “Are you seriously asking if this is how I planned spending my day? Are you mental?” Harry cleared his throat, but Berin knew he was trying not to laugh, the ass. “How were you planning on spending it, then?” Whether by stroke of genius or stupidity, Berin came up with the lowest lie he could possibly think of. “I was planning on actually making it on a date tonight…” he muttered, conveniently not mentioning how his ‘date’ was actually his dog, and it was just movie night. “Oooooooh, a date? With who?” Maybe Berin liked that suddenly strained tone to his voice a little too much. “That’s none of your business.” “Come on, this is interesting. What was the date gonna be?” Sure, very interesting. “Dinner and a movie.” “What movie?” “The Princess Bride.” “Ahh, so it’s a stay at home movie?” “Supposed to be, yeah…” The theaters didn’t allow dogs, obviously. “And, uh, what about dinner?” “What about it?” “What’re you planning to have to compliment Princess Bride?” Berin rolled his eyes. “Lasagna.” “Sounds romantic.” “Sure, I guess so,” he shrugged. “Who’s house?” He narrowed his eyes. “Mine, why?” “Just curious. Sounds like a fun date.” It went silent for a few moments, giving Berin a little time to contemplate Harry’s words, as well as place the tone he’d taken on. “You’re jealous, aren’t you…” Immediately, he scoffed. “No.” “Yeah you are, you’re sooooo curious that you asked whose house this was gonna take place at… you’re jealous, admit it.” “Well, I don’t see you asking any fucking questions.” “Fine. Were you planning at showing up at my house during my date?” “What if I was?” Berin snickered at the defensiveness. “It’d be pretty funny, for one… wait, do you actually know where I live?” Harry shrugged. “You’ll have to find out.” A prickle went down Berin’s spine, but he focused on revenge. “That’s messed up… I feel like describing in detail how much I kiss him now.” “Kiss? You move fast, Detective.” “You’re one to talk, Mister ‘I’m going to kiss you, escape, and then get you investigated by your whole department,’ I’m vindicated.” “It was all fun.” Well that stung a bit… “Oh yeah, so much fun… I’m sure busting into my house in a fit of jealousy is purely for fun as well.” “I’m not fucking jealous.” He clenched his fists. “Prove it.” “How the fuck am I supposed to prove that?” “Not my problem,” he shrugged, something very painful twisting in his chest. “It is your fucking problem if you’re the one who wants proof.” “It’s your fucking problem for starting this whole thing in the first place, the least you can do is admit it!” “You’re the one who made it into a fucking problem,” he grumbled. “No I didn’t!” Suddenly, he was sliding off Harry’s shoulder, stumbling and stunned as soon as he hit the ground. “I want out.” “Wow, took you this long to consider maybe running off after I fucking arrested you was a bad idea,” he spat. “Getting sent to jail is even worse. Take the fucking handcuff off.” Berin steeled himself, expecting the next move Harry made to slam right into his face. “Or what.” “Or I’ll break it off me.” He rolled his eyes. “Go for it, superman…” Harry moved immediately, and it wasn’t to try to break the hardened steel. “What the fuck, stop!” he pulled Harry’s hand away before he could break his hand. “No, you obviously just want to arrest me, and I’m not keen on prison.” That twisted in Berin’s gut like a knife, and he swallowed hard. Focus. “That doesn’t mean hurt yourself, fuck…” “Then let me go.” Berin stared at him for the longest time, completely at war with himself on what to do next. On the one hand, he could lose his job… but on the other, he would just get hurt more. As he stared into Harry’s eyes, he moved on impulse; this wasn’t worth it. Of course it wasn’t worth it. He felt numb as he pulled the key out of his pocket, quickly removing the handcuffs. Harry immediately jerked his hand away. “Thank you.” Swallowing, Berin didn’t respond. Instead, he took a deep breath, pocketed the cuffs, and walked away. It wasn’t worth it… of course it was all for fun. Harry was a criminal. And Berin was stupid. “Have fun on your date! Missing the adventure of a heist right here!” Biting his lip hard so he wouldn’t start crying right there, he flipped Harry off without turning back. There was no point to dealing with the man any longer, and he was obviously emotionally compromised. All he could think about was getting home. ---- Three days after he pulled himself off the case, he started getting the emails. Obviously Heistman, with the most stupid email address ever… Berin ignored every single one. He wasn’t interested in anything Harry had to say, since it probably wasn’t actually important. For all Berin knew, he just wanted information. Wanted Berin back on the case because he was so easy to manipulate. Four days after the emails started, Berin picked up the phone only to find out with some level of horror that it was Harry. Immediately, he’d hung up, but the calls continued. Skies, between the calls and the emails, Berin wondered what exactly would get the point across that he did not want to talk. He didn’t care what Harry wanted, how long was this going to last. It was ten days after he pulled himself off the case when he got home after getting groceries and found the door was unlocked. And he very clearly remembered locking the door. Carefully putting down his bags, he grabbed an umbrella from the corner and started making his way through his house. He didn’t hear anything, and he didn’t see Quincy anywhere… or hear him, for that matter. Turning into the kitchen, he saw the figure before recognizing them, and immediately punched them in the face. Which gave him just enough time to recognize Harry yell out in pain. Anger flooded into him as he kicked the man. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, GET OUT!” “You’re ignoring me!” “Then get a fucking CLUE!” he threw the umbrella at Harry. “Was I boring you?!” “What? What do you fucking care!” “You got off my case!” “So what! I don’t owe you anything! Get out and leave me alone!” “Why’d you leave?!” “What do you care?! Just find someone else to have fun with and fuck off!” “It wasn’t just fun!” “I don’t even care, get out of my house!” Now it was loud. Now his dog was barking. Now he was so angry he could throw something else at Harry. Luckily, the man was backing up. “I’m sorry…” “No you’re not! You can’t even say why you’ve been stalking me!” “I just want to talk!” “About what?! What do you fucking want with me?!” “The… the new detective, Matthers. I need some information.” Berin very pointedly ignored the raw nerves of his heart being completely torn out of his chest and rolled his eyes. “You figured out my email address, my phone number, and my address, why don’t you figure it out by yourself,” he snapped, pretending his voice didn’t crack. “Two out of three of those were on your fucking business card. Please, man…” Berin crossed his arms. “No.” “Why not? It’s not like you actually care, if you took yourself off the case.” “I am not getting fired for you!” he spat, sending him a withering glare. “No one has to know!” “That doesn’t change that someone might find out!” “How? You gonna snitch on yourself?” He pressed his lips together. “Fuck off.” “I’ll keep it a secret. Pinky promise.” Berin wanted to scream, and then he wanted to cry, but all he did was groan. “Fucking asshole, what do you want to know?” “What’s their style?” “New, does everything by the book and uptight about it, got the nickname of college-boy around the station.” “Alright, I can work with that.” As if Berin cared. “Ruthless? Good at making tough decisions?” “Hasn’t been around long enough to be ruthless, and he makes a lot of split second decisions, some good and some bad… he’s new, his supervisor’s the ruthless one.” “And his supervisor’s gonna be working closely with him? Not give as much freedom as you have?” That was a joke. “Not really, he’s got more freedom than a rookie, but Nicholson’s still gonna be watching his work.” “Okay. Now would you say the people in his office respect him, or nah?” Berin shrugged. “They don’t take him too seriously… not as seriously as he takes himself.” “What’s his first name?” “Darren.” Harry nodded, shuffling his feet. “Thank you. You, uh… you guys played any pranks on him yet? Any embarrassing info I could use against him?” “Just a few jokes going around the station about him, nothing really super embarrassing yet…” “Do you like him?” Berin shrugged. “Not really… he’s not that bad, just annoying.” “Yeah. I know people like that…” Wonderful. Berin waited a few minutes longer, then shifted. “Is that all?” “About him, yeah…” Harry tensed, and Berin couldn’t muster the energy to react. “How are you?” “Fine. Great. Why would I be anything else.” It wasn’t as though his love life were a complete disaster and he had the worst possible taste in men or anything. “I was just wondering… making sure you weren’t fired for… you know.” Lethargically, Berin shrugged. “Miraculously, no. Just put on desk work until further notice.” “Oh. That’s good…” He paused, then fished something out of his back pocket - an envelope, once Berin was able to get a look at it. “Anyways, dropping this off. While I was waiting for you to get home, I fixed that leaky pipe upstairs as well. I’ll, uh, get out of your way now.” Blinking, Berin frowned slightly. “What’s this for…?” “It’s a thank you. For letting me go… part of the money from the heist. Wouldn’t have been able to pull it off without you, so, uh, there’s your share.” Shaking his head, Berin pushed the envelope back towards him. “I can’t take this…” he didn’t really want to, either. “I mean you don’t have to put it in the bank, use it for gas money, snacks…” he started to put it on the counter. “I really can’t… please, just take it.” He pressed his lips together, but it happened too quick before the envelope disappeared. “Alright, alright… mind if I use the bathroom before I leave?” “Knock yourself out,” he shrugged. “Thanks. No date tonight?” “You already met Quincy.” The golden retriever was very excited that Berin said his name and wagged his tail happily. “What?” for the briefest, most satisfying moment of the entire conversation, Harry looked genuinely confused. “Damn, you really had me going back there…” He quickly rounded the corner to the bathroom, and Berin heard the door close. Overall, the nothingness was far preferable to actual feelings; he grabbed his groceries and started to put them away, pulling out a frozen dinner and turning on the oven so he could at least eat something once Harry had gone, and he had finished crying over this bullshit. Harry came back out as he finished shoving the cardboard box in the trash. “I can make you a better dinner sometime,” he said, gesturing towards the frozen food. Berin only shrugged. “I’ll be fine, thanks.” He wasn’t entirely sure why that seemed to affect Harry so much, something in him shifting. It was hidden fast enough, and he shrugged. “Alright. Bye.” “Bye.” Berin didn’t move while Harry left, listening for the door to click shut. Putting dinner in the oven. Setting the timer. Then letting the pain hit him fully, sinking to the floor in tears while Quincy whined and licked his face. Distantly, he pet Quincy, sobbing until he couldn’t anymore. He was stupid, he shouldn’t have answered anything. He should’ve made Harry leave. He shouldn’t have caved, because now Harry knew he could still get whatever he wanted from Berin. He was a hopeless excuse for a detective, and should probably quit before there was even the chance to get fired. It really wasn’t the first time he’d considered it… Berin turned on the tv, flipped to a stupid sitcom, and curled up on the couch as he waited for the timer to go off. Between bouts of crying, he went to the bathroom only to find the envelope Harry brought him in the cabinet. Berin refused to touch it. Over the next few days, Harry didn’t try to contact him as much as sent emails to check on him. One showed up in his mailbox, and in a daze Berin had opened it just to leave it, unread, in a kitchen drawer. ---- It was sixteen days after he pulled himself from Harry’s case that he started noticing something at work in the papers he was going through and filing. Several discrepancies - recurring discrepancies. And there was a pattern. Enough that Berin knew something very wrong was going on… money was coming from seemingly nowhere, only to be distributed at the station. Where the money was coming from, Berin wasn’t entirely sure… However, he did know that when he started investigating further, the notes he started to get were very much not from Harry, nor were they at all nice. Though he’d tried to keep his head down and quietly continue the investigation, the letters kept coming - and when they directly threatened him, he knew he was in over his head. He couldn’t trust anyone at the station, especially once he found out there were experimental drugs involved, but he needed… he needed someone outside that could actually help. Fuck his life. Berin packed before he sent the email asking Harry for help out of sheer procrastination. Really, he didn’t even expect a response from Harry, especially since he’d never responded before… but Harry was at the door ten minutes after he sent the email, and Berin wasn’t sure whether he really wanted to think about that. “Are you alright?” were the first words out of his mouth. “I’m fine. Just getting some threatening letters, I don’t really know where to go…” “That’s fine, you can stay with me while this gets sorted out.” Berin swallowed, holding onto Quincy’s lead far more tightly than he probably should’ve. “Thank you…” “Yeah, no problem. You have everything you need?” Nodding, Berin grabbed his and Quincy’s bags before following Harry out to a van. Category:Graceling RP